Chapter 4 - A Whisper From Heaven

Jia left the bathroom, perplexed by her emotions. She sat in the waiting area, trying to piece together the whirlwind of thoughts clouding her mind.

Inside the interrogation room, Emma and Alex were deep in discussion, attempting to connect the dots.

Emma furrowed her brows, tapping a pen against the table. "An accident and a murder. We can forget about the accident for now and focus on what we have, a woman, tortured and brutalized. But doesn't it seem strange that no neighbor heard anything? No one reported it?"

Alex leaned against the table, arms crossed. "The couple were once rich, lost everything to debt about sixteen years ago. That means they've been in that apartment ever since. A place like that… things happen, but something is off. It's like-"

A phone call interrupted him.

"Sorry, I need to take this," Emma said, already standing.

"Go ahead," Alex replied, watching her leave before shifting his focus back to the documents in front of him.

The reports detailed various crimes within that sinful apartment complex—a haven for drug dealers and criminals. The deeper he read, the more disgusted he felt. But one report stood out.

A case.

A missing child.

Alex's breath hitched as his eyes scanned the page.

"2021, January 4th. A young boy reported missing at the Galaxy Apartments. Upon arrival, investigators found the mother in distress, claiming her son had vanished from inside the apartment. There were no signs of forced entry. No witnesses. No traces. It was as if the child had been erased from existence."

The investigator assigned?

Walter Halloway.

Alex's pulse quickened. That Walter Halloway. The man who was once a legend, a force of nature in the field. A detective who didn't stop until he got answers.

And yet

"Walter Halloway dropped the case six months in. Then quit entirely."

Alex stared at the words as if they might change under his gaze.

A man like that didn't just walk away.

It was a strange thing—the missing boy who had simply vanished, and a renowned investigator known for his unbreakable record of solving crimes suddenly resigning after thirty years. The weight of it settled heavy in his gut. Before he could dwell further, the door burst open.

Emma stood in the doorway, her expression taut with urgency. "Alex, we have a clue. Follow me to the car."

Without hesitation, he shoved the document into his coat pocket and hurried after her. "Where did we get it?"

Emma met his eyes for a moment. "The morgue."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "The morgue?" A dry chuckle escaped him. "Well, at least we have something to follow."

"We don't know yet," Emma admitted, slipping into the passenger seat. "Let's just hope it's something useful."

Alex turned the key, and the car roared to life. He drove like a mad chauffeur, the old road making the vehicle bounce as potholes sent sharp jolts through the frame. His knuckles turned white against the steering wheel, his grip tightening each time the tires dipped into another uneven patch.

A particularly deep pothole jolted Emma against her seatbelt. "Shit," she muttered, rubbing her shoulder. "I hate this city so much. Sometimes I wish I was well off—maybe then I could live there."

"Where?" Alex asked, eyes still on the road.

Emma exhaled softly. "You know, the metropolis. Vermillion Bay..."

Alex didn't say anything. He knew what she meant. The city next to them, sharing the same borders with Aragoub, might as well have been an entirely different world. The difference between this place and that place was like the difference between heaven and hell.

Vermillion Bay was a technological miracle. The people there weren't just peaceful; they were far more behaved, more sophisticated. A utopia compared to the filth and decay of Aragoub. But both of them knew it was nothing more than a dream. The likes of them could never fantasize about living there. Not because they didn't have the money to move—but because money wasn't enough.

"Emma, that's ridiculous. Just accept your fate," Alex muttered, his grip on the wheel tightening. "People like us won't be accepted there. To them, we're a bunch of vermin."

The neon skyline of Vermillion Bay loomed in the distance, its glow reflecting off the river like a mirage. Emma stared at it, her emotions tangled in a mix of envy and understanding. "I know," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "Even if you were super rich, you wouldn't be able to buy land there. The only way for you to live in Vermillion Bay is to be born in it."

Silence settled between them for the rest of the drive.

When they arrived at the morgue, they stormed in like a thunderstorm, the air tense with anticipation. An officer led them to where the victims' bodies lay under white sheets.

The woman's body was a ruin of torment. The scars had turned into a sickly shade of blue, a grotesque testament to her suffering.

"You might want to see this," the officer said, pulling out a bloodstained piece of paper sealed in plastic.

Emma took it, her hands steady but her pulse erratic. She glanced at Alex, a flicker of unease in her eyes. Alex gave her a reassuring nod. She swallowed hard and read aloud:

"In the midst of hope lies despair. Life is a cruel jest, an unending cycle of joy and agony, where we rise only to fall again. The only true escape is to step beyond the cycle, to surrender, to fade into the silence. Death is not an end, but a whisper in eternity, a slumber for weary souls. I prayed for salvation. And he answered me with a smile."

"The light behind him was blinding, like an angel come to lift me away."

"Today, I'll descend to heaven."

Silence.

The room felt... wrong. It was as if something unseen, something aware, was watching.

Emma turned the page over.

A symbol.

Its meaning was unknown, but something about it was inherently wrong. It was an eye, but not just any eye. This one seemed to be looking straight into their souls, as if it were alive.

Alex exhaled sharply. "What the hell is this supposed to mean?"

Emma's fingers trembled slightly. "Was she religious? Did she know she was going to die? And most importantly..."

She swallowed.

"Who is 'he'?"

No one spoke. Yet, for the first time, they all felt it, that creeping, unseen presence. Something was very, very wrong with this case.

"That symbol…" the officer muttered. "It's not the first time I've seen it."

Emma and Alex exchanged glances.

"Months ago, some homeless guy came into the station, rambling," the officer continued. "Kept saying he'd seen 'the mark of the hollowed.' We thought he was just another junkie. Maybe..."

Emma stared at the strange emblem. It watched. It waited.

"We need to find that man," she said.

Meanwhile, at the Station.

The station bustled with distant voices and ringing phones, but in the small waiting area, it was quiet. Kath, a young officer with a cute face and short, silky black hair, placed snacks in front of Jia and Cain. Her smile was warm, the kind that put people at ease.

"Jia, we called your parents. They're on their way. You're safe now."

Jia exhaled, the tension leaving her shoulders. Finally.

Kath crouched down to Cain's eye level, studying him. He sat curled into himself, arms wrapped around his legs, staring at the floor.

"Hey, little man. Why aren't you eating? Don't you like it?"

No response.

Kath softened, placing a gentle hand on his back. "I get it. It's hard."

She glanced at Jia, at her relieved expression, the way her eyes lit up at the mention of her parents. Cain had no one.

"I know what you're thinking," she murmured.

Cain finally looked up, meeting her gaze.

"It's easy to let jealousy poison you," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "To let it fester, grow, turn into something dark. It tells you that you deserve more. That life is unfair. And the more you feed it, the hungrier it becomes. Until one day… it eats you alive."

For the first time, something flickered in Cain's expression. He was listening.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, he smiled and nodded.

Kath grinned, ruffling his hair. "That's better."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar, placing it in front of him. "I bought this for my little brother, but I think you deserve it more."

A voice called from across the station.

"Kath! We need you!"

"Coming!"

She turned back to Cain, giving his cheek a playful pinch. "Welp, I gotta bounce. Look for me if you need anything, okay?"

Then she was gone.

A moment later, footsteps—quick, frantic—echoed through the station.

"Jia!"

Her mother rushed in, her father close behind.

Jia shot to her feet. "Mom! Dad!"

Her parents pulled her into a crushing embrace, their voices thick with emotion.

"My baby! I was so worried!"

"You're safe now. Daddy's got you." They held her close, whispering reassurances, hands shaking as they touched her face, her arms, as if making sure she was really there.

Across the room, Cain watched.

His fingers tightened around the chocolate bar.

Something in his expression softened. But just beneath that softness, something else stirred. Something deep. Something unknowable.

Jia, still wrapped in her parents' embrace, turned back one last time.

Cain was staring. Not with anger. Not with sadness.

Just… staring.

Her stomach twisted. Something about his gaze, something unreadable, unsettled her.

She turned away

Then-

A whisper.

Soft. Barely there. Only for her ears.

"You're lucky, Jia."

Her breath caught.

She spun back.

Cain hadn't moved. His lips hadn't parted.

Jia swallowed hard and turned away, following her parents out the door.

Cain sat alone, the station settled into a dull hum of background noise, shuffling papers, the low murmur of conversations, the occasional ringing of a phone. Cain remained where he was, the chocolate bar still in his grip, its wrapper slightly crinkled from the pressure of his fingers.

Slowly, deliberately, he unwrapped it.

He stared at the chocolate for a long moment before taking a small bite. The sweetness melted on his tongue, unfamiliar yet strangely pleasant.

His free hand drifted to the table's surface, fingers grazing over the faint, worn scratches etched into the wood. Marks left behind by restless hands, people who had sat here before him.

Murderers. Thieves. Scammers. Abusers.

And the innocent.

People who had been taken in because they crossed the wrong person. People who had no idea why they were here at all. People who were guilty of nothing, yet were treated as if they were guilty of everything.

Rules? In a place like Aragoub, they were just decorations. Pretty words meant to pacify the weak. They didn't protect people. They kept their thoughts limited, a way that ensures keeping them away from asking unnecessary questions, and remain controlled.

Cain traced one particularly deep scratch with his fingertip.

And traced.

And traced.

Then-

A quiet smile.

Not one of joy.

Not one of sorrow.

Something else entirely.

He took another bite of the chocolate.

By two a.m., Cain had already drifted into sleep, his small frame slumped in the chair, head tilted to the side without support.

Passing by with a laptop in her hands, Kath paused. Her gaze softened as she took in the sight, his exhaustion evident, his breathing steady yet fragile, as if the weight of the world pressed down even in sleep.

For a moment, she saw her brother in him. Max. Maybe it was just a trick of the mind—similar build, similar quiet presence. Or maybe it was something deeper.

A pang of sorrow tightened in her chest, "This poor boy lost both his parents in a single night. The way he sleeps... it breaks my heart. If I could just hold him, even for a moment, and tell him he's not alone..."

She shook off the thought. No use dwelling on what couldn't be fixed. Instead, she set her laptop down on the table and leaned over him.

"Alright, kiddo, let's get you somewhere more comfortable," she murmured, slipping her arms beneath him.

Cain didn't stir, too deep in his exhaustion.

Kath let out a soft grunt as she lifted him. "Oh boy, you're heavier than you look. But don't worry, I've been hitting the gym, just a few kilos won't bring me down."

With careful steps, she carried him to her office. There, she set him down on a cushioned chair, gently tilting his head back for support. A blanket, slightly worn but warm, was draped over him.

For a long moment, she simply watched him. A quiet wish left her lips, barely above a whisper.

"I hope everything turns out alright for you."

Then, with the silent grace of someone used to late nights, she slipped out, ensuring the door shut without a sound.

Meanwhile, Jia arrived at the mansion, a grand estate in the southern part of Aragoub, nestled within a guarded neighborhood where wealth ensured security. Her father, a respected doctor, had built a life where dignity and comfort were never in question.

As she stepped inside, the air smelled of home, of warmth, of everything familiar. But something inside her felt distant.

"Mom, I'll be upstairs," she announced, already making her way toward the staircase.

Ashley, her mother, watched her with an unreadable expression. "Of course, sweetheart. If you need anything, just call me."

Jia barely heard her.

As she disappeared up the stairs, her father, Michael, wrapped an arm around Ashley's shoulders. His voice was low, weary.

"I'm just glad she's safe. The details we heard from the officers… even I don't know if I could have handled witnessing something like that."

Ashley remained silent, her gaze still fixed on the empty stairs where Jia had vanished inside her room.

She sat at the edge of her bed, staring down at her hands. "Why did I doubt him?Cain had smiled. So what?"

"Wait." Jia eyes widened as a realization settled in her head, "it could be a disease!"

Her father once mentioned Parkinson's disease, how it could sometimes cause inappropriate emotional responses. Maybe it was something like that. Maybe Cain wasn't what she thought he was.

She shut her eyes, exhaling sharply, she covered her face with a pillow as if she was trying to hide the look of shame on her face.

"God, I'm awful, Judging a book by its cover. Letting unease taint my thoughts when the boy had just lost his father in front of him."

A bitter taste filled her mouth as she curled into herself, knees drawn to her chest.

Sleep came slowly.

---

The Next Morning. Elsewhere

The hunt had hit a wall.

Samuel Grayson was a ghost. No medical records. No permanent residence. No family. Every lead Emma and Alex chased down circled back into nothingness.

Emma stepped out of the convenience store, taking a slow sip of her coffee. The caffeine was a lifeline at this point.

"I can't function without this," she declared, lifting the cup as if to toast the morning air.

Alex, waiting in the car, barely looked up. "You and your addiction," he muttered. "Just get in the damn car."

Emma smirked, sliding into the passenger seat. "As if you're any better, mister tea enthusiast. At least my vice is worth spending money on."

Alex let the insult hang in the air as he pulled out of the parking lot.

She glanced sideways at him, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Hit a nerve, did I?"

He said nothing, but the tight grip on the steering wheel betrayed his irritation.

Emma chuckled, sipping her coffee.

Alex turned onto the main road. Their hunt wasn't over.

Not yet, in fact, it has just begun.